“I’m going to go and get food,” Brett says. “For later.” He turns and walks out of the house. I take the bottle from her and bring it to my lips and take a sip. The amber liquid burns all the way down to my stomach.
“That is so gross,” I say. “Maybe it tastes better cold.”
“Maybe it tastes better after we’re drunk,” she says, taking another sip from the bottle. “Still not good.”
I put my head down on the side of the cushion. “My heart is broken,” I whisper. She’s the only one I will tell all my secrets to. The only one I know will keep them locked up.
“I thought I was okay,” I say, grabbing the bottle from her and taking a sip as the tears run down my face. “I thought I was over it. I thought, or at least I would tell myself, that seeing him wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t change anything. I have so much hatred and anger for him that there is no way I would care if he came back.” I close my eyes, and all I can see is him, but it’s the new him. The one who didn’t smile; the one who I don’t know.
“I love Drew.” She just looks at me. “I love him, I do …”
“You will never love Drew like that.” Jenna reaches out to hold my hand. “I hate that you can’t love him like that even though I think he’s a douchebag. I want you to love him with every single beat of your heart. But …” she says, looking down, and then she has her own tears in her eyes. “You never will. Ethan is the love of your life. He is a part of you.”
I bring the bottle to my lips, and this time, I take a bigger gulp. “He was the love of my life, but that part of me is dead.”
“That part of you will never die,” she says. “Just like if Brett were to leave me. I will forever love him with everything that I have. I will pretend I didn’t, but in my soul, I would cry for him.”
“He doesn’t love me,” I say. “If he did, he never would have left me the way he did.”
“You need to get the story.” She looks at me. “I hate him for what he did, but there has to be a reason.”
I shake my head. “What reason?” I ask angrily, getting up. “What fucking reason could there be for leaving me behind if he loved me so much?” I take another sip, and I suddenly feel hot. “He was mad at his parents, and I get that, but me?” I point at myself. “Me? I had nothing to do with that!” I yell. “Nothing,” I fume. “He could have reached out after. He could have cooled down and called me. He could have done all of those things.” I look at her, stopping to pace. “And what did he do?” She just looks at me with tears in her eyes. “He did nothing. He just tossed me aside without a second thought,” I say, and the words hurt my heart even more today than they did before. “I am nothing to him,” I say again, and this time, I fall to my knees. “Nothing. How could I love a man who thinks I’m nothing?” My hands go to my face. “How could my heart still love him? How?”
Jenna is beside me as the sobs rip through me over and over again. This time, she holds me in her arms on the floor as the tears flow down and so many tears come. I hurt from losing him just as much today as I did five years ago. For five years, I buried the hurt; for five years, I ignored the hurt. For five years, I pretended that I was okay; I was not okay. I am not okay, but I am going to be okay. “Why?” I whisper. “How could he do that to me?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers.
“Yeah, I don’t either,” I say, and when Brett comes back, his hands are full of food.
“So,” he says to us. “I ran into Billy, and he said that if you mix that whiskey with some sweet tea, it’s even better.” He puts down the bag of food. “Also, he says your ass better be at that barbecue on Sunday.”
“No way,” Jenna says, and I shake my head.
“I don’t know how long he’s in town for, and I don’t care.” I get up, leaning on the couch for support. “The only thing I know is that I’m not going to go out of my way to see him. So there will be no more barbecues, and there will be no more lunches with the family.” My heart hurts just a touch more. When he left, I got lost in his family; it was the only thing of him I could have so I took hold of it and made it mine. Now I have to step away. “I’m not doing it for him. I’m doing it for me.” I walk away from them and toward my bedroom. “I need a shower.”